Anthology
by inmate23
Summary: A collection of mostly unrelated AU one-shots of various length and genres, mostly based on prompts and some fix-its for the show's plot and character retcons.
1. Chapter 1

****The Stakeout****

 ** **(AU: 205 The Front)****

 ** **A/N:**** **Started writing these one-shots way back in late 2016, still updating them on another FF site so I thought to archive them here too. I am never quite satisfied with how my writing has evolved over the years, so any kind of comment or constructive criticism is much appreciated, if you feel like it.**

 ** **Summary:**** **This one-shot is my** **try at Red & Donald friendship and has heavily implied Red/Liz. Also one of my attempts at humor.**

 ** **Disclaimer:**** **I don't own The Blacklist, or any of its recognizable characters. No copyright infringement intended.**

Agent Donald Ressler let out a frustrated sigh. His legs were getting cramped and every new second spent sitting beside the FBI's "favorite" criminal informant, was giving him the urge to break things, or preferably punch someone and Reddington looked like a likely target. "It's been hours, are you sure your guy's gonna show up?" He gave Reddington an impatient look, who stared back at him, with his trademark unreadable expression and let out a short laugh.

"Why Donald, if I didn't know any better I'd say you're uncomfortable sitting here with me. I thought you Feds were used to long hours of surveillance? Look on the bright side, at least this time it's not a smelly old van or a government issued Box in the Post Office." Red leaned back and rested his head on the leather seat of the black sedan, closing his eyes for a moment, appearing completely at ease, which annoyed his current partner even more.

Ressler cringed at the memory of being shot and bleeding in the aforementioned box but didn't comment. He loosened up his tie and looked again through his binoculars at the building of their target.

Red ignored his silence and continued in a deep almost seemingly melancholy tone, "You know... when I was in my... let's call it _former_ life, I used to go on a lot of all-nighter stake outs..."

Ressler turned and interupted him. "Not interested in your life story, Reddington."

"And here I was expecting some bonding..." He shook his head at him. "That's a shame, Donald. I seem to remember a time when you were interested in every move I made..."

"Told you, not going down the memory lane... _God_ , I feel like I'm in one of those bad 1980s buddy cop movies..."

"Which one? You must be more specific as there were quite a few of them, not necessarily all bad, although I must admit I have missed most of them, as you know, later being on the run. I caught some on pay-per-view in hotels but... Ah yes, what was the one with Richard Dreyfuss and Emillio Esteves called? They had to observe that woman... the killer's ex-wife?"

"The Stakeout?" Ressler answered, while Red frowned and said, "no I believe it was named differently..."

Ressler covered his face with his hand and let out a frustrated sigh. Red chewed on the inside of his mouth, while thinking about the name. "It is odd. I have perfect memory, can remember the names of distant relatives of my enemies and business associates and yet I have trouble remembering the title of a silly movie..." He laughed. "No matter, it was worth seeing it, if only for Madeleine Stowe's lovely smile..."

" _Smile_? Are you serious? Didn't she take her clothes off in that one?"

"Unlike you, Donald, I do not watch movies, simply for the off chance of seeing some nudity..." Red shook his head at him, as if in serious disapproval and went on, explaining what other things were more important to him, then watching a woman disrobe.

Ressler rolled his eyes. "You're so full of it, Reddington. Sometimes I wonder how Liz puts up with all your crap..." He muttered in annoyance.

Red smirked at him, his eyes crinkled in a rarely shown genuine amusement. "Because I'm actually quite lovable, when you get to know me better."

Ressler laughed and retorted, "In your dreams, Reddington. She only tolerates you because you're an asset and you manipulated her with some supposed shared history. And you need her for some agenda, that's why you're so obsessed with her."

"Ah, you'd be surprised..." Red responded, his voice sounding oddly low and turned his head away to look through the window of the sedan.

Ressler frowned at his sudden change in demeanor. "Even if there was a slight chance I might be wrong and you actually like her as a person, there is no chance in hell she'd ever be interested in you, not to mention it being illegal!"

Red gave one resolute nod in return. "What about you, Agent Ressler? Seeing anyone? I know it has been difficult for you after your former love got killed and getting shot but you really need someone to help you deal with your little problem..."

"It's none of your business, Reddington."

"Oh it most certainly is my business! Agent Keen's safety is of great concern to me, especially if her partner is not there to have her back."

"I've joined a group and got some help. It's being taken care of." Ressler gritted out.

"I hope so, for her sake... and yours." He gave him a pointed look.

Ressler shook his head and laughed humorlessly. "Can't believe I'm going to ask you but what's up with her? She's changed these past few months and not in a good way. I know we've all been through a lot after Berlin's attack but..."

Red raised his eyebrows, surprised at his question but stayed silent, waiting for him to finish.

"Did something happen between you two? She doesn't look comfortable working with you anymore. She's been tense a lot lately, even before this virus scare. And she's been sarcastic, snappish and cranky with everyone. Last week she snapped at me because I drank the last of the coffee from the machine and she usually drinks the one from the shop across the street. She's really not acting like herself and it's worrying."

"Like you said, she's been through a lot." He said seriously.

"That's all?" Ressler raised his eyebrows.

Red stared at him for a second too long, as he worked his mouth, before finally asking, "What do you want me to say?"

"No witty overblown story to tell me? I'm surprised, you're usually so quick-witted and full of those. What went wrong? Have you two slept together?" He asked.

Ressler never thought he'd see Reddington go pale and again it took him slightly too long to answer, as if he was thinking about what it would be like. He chewed on the side of his mouth, his left eye twitched in an unconscious nervous tick.

Although it was short-lived and soon his mask of indifference was in place, he practicably gave himself away. "You think we had a one night stand, Donald? Despite what you may believe, I am _not_ that kind of man. Besides, I thought _you_ at least respected Agent Keen enough to not think of her in such terms."

"Never expected for you to admit it even if you had. I saw you though."

"You _saw_ me?" He frowned in confusion.

"Yesterday, I was visiting her in the hospital and saw you in her room... holding her hand and your head was down on the bed. It was creepy, how peaceful you looked."

Ressler shook his head in disbelief.

Red looked away and sighed. He knew his indiscretion would come back to haunt him. He would never admit it to anyone but when Aram called him to say she was infected, he came very close to losing control.

He remembered the sudden excruciating pain in his chest, that sudden stab of fear, the realization that this time he might lose her and that if he lost her, nothing mattered anymore. Berlin and all of his other enemies could go straight to hell and drag him with them. Nothing mattered, not even his list, if she was not safe and well.

He was so far gone in his concern for Lizzie, that he recklessly left the door of the room open and Ressler saw him, asleep next to her. When he was told she was going to be okay, he felt such relief, he allowed himself to relax and the exhaustion finally overtook him.

He stayed silent, while Ressler continued seriously. "I was wrong. You're not just obsessed, you genuinely care about her."

Red only continued staring at him blankly.

To his surprise, Ressler actually gave him a sympathetic look. "I've never seen you that way before. Out of your element."

Red laughed. "It might surprise you to know but there's actually a human being under this three-piece suit."

Ressler smirked. "You forget I've witnessed that trace of humanity two times so far but I don't think anyone would ever believe me. I thought you only wanted her because she knew or had something you needed but this is certainly surprising..."

"About your problem... You know what _you_ really need, Donald?"

Ressler rolled his eyes, Reddington was a master of deflection. "No, _please_ enlighten me."

"A woman in a cool set of sheets."

"I seem to remember that being on your bucket list. Sex is not an answer to everything, Reddington."

"Never said it was but it's a damn enjoyable way to spend time. You might even call it therapy, if you like. Speaking of which, I once knew this sex therapist-"

Ressler groaned. "Spare me the details, please."

"Okay, how about a date first? When was the last time you went on one?"

Ressler blinked. This was surreal. Reddington was giving him dating tips?

"No offence but you're not my type."

Red huffed out a laugh. "None taken. I don't do redheads either. Oh Donald, you really do need to work on your attitude. You're far too serious and you need to relax."

Ressler looked at him as if he just coughed up an alien parasite. _Was this man for real?_

Red, who was either oblivious to Ressler's reaction, or ignoring him, went on, "I'm not saying you need to find the next love of your life. Obviously it will take time after Audrey... Just that you could benefit from some female companionship."

"Not discussing this with you." He looked through the binoculars again.

"What about that blonde from Forensics, what's her name... The one that's been spending too much time by the watercooler lately? The one by your office, even though they have one in Forensics, not to mention that vending machine... Either she has a _drinking_ problem," he laughed at his own bad joke, "or it's just an excuse to stare at you and say hello, whenever you notice her."

"How the hell do you know about Hawkins?"

"Ah, yes that's it, Carol Hawkins. A very intelligent woman, that one, if _incredibly_ shy. Did you know she has two college degrees? When she finally opened up, we had a lovely chat about art and literature."

"Why don't you date her then." He said sarcastically.

"She's a bit young for me but could be just right for you."

"Since when do you care about age? Anyway, Liz is younger, much younger... She could be your... Is she your daughter?"

" _No_ , of course _not_. Besides I thought you Feds were thorough and did the test." Red looked genuinely angry and Ressler was aware he was beginning to regret starting this conversation.

"It was negative but since it was yours... Samples can be lost, replaced... That would certainly explain why you came out of the box only for her, without hesitation. Because it doesn't make much sense for you to do this, if you just care about her. You didn't do that for your friend Luli and you've known her for years and you two seemed close.

If you had died then this game of yours, the blacklist, all of it wouldn't matter as you would gain nothing... Hell, if Liz didn't get brought in by Garrick's men, you wouldn't have even got out for Dembe and you two have some kind of a weird brotherly thing going on..." Ressler's voice trailed off, as his eyes went wide with sudden realization.

Red gave him a look of warning.

"Damn. Never thought the hardened criminal Red Reddington was such a softie inside. A criminal and a Fed, you are quite a pair. What would your enemies say?" He smirked.

"Agent Ressler... I hardly find this a joking matter." He retorted.

"You got it bad for her, admit it."

Red went silent, his body language showing his desire to end the conversation. The deceiving muscle under his left eye twitched again. _Gotcha, you bastard!_

"I don't blame you, if you've developed some feelings. She is certainly a woman to die for. Liz has many qualities, not just being a beauty with brains."

"My _feelings_ don't matter in the long run. What matters is her survival, Donald and I would appreciate it if you don't breathe a word of what's been said here."

"As if I'm going to walk around the Post Office, singing _Red and Lizzie, sitting in a tree..._ " He retorted sarcastically. "Besides, most of them already think you two are sleeping together and had a recent breakup and that's why she's been snippy and avoiding you most of the time."

Red raised his eyebrows. " _Really?_ Is the agency so inept and bored now, that it's resorting to high school antics and office gossiping to pass the time? People will think whatever they want but they certainly don't need more incentive and my enemies, _our_ enemies don't need another tip or more leverage against me."

He went silent and it stayed that way for several minutes, until Ressler cleared his throat.

"Alright... I see we're done with the bonding. Ah, someone's coming. Is that the guy? I thought he'd be taller and scarier. Looks like Dr Evil's older brother." Ressler looked back at him. "I don't know why you needed me for this anyway. You could easily take him out yourself. And you could have brought Dembe with you as back up."

"Dembe is attending to some business for me and this man owes me important information. He may not look menacing but he's not to be underestimated. Wait in the car. At first sign of trouble, come and get me."

Ressler gave him an incredulous look. "This is bullshit! We're staking out the DMV, for Christ's sake!" He laughed humorlessly. "The only thing you'd expect here is the riots from the disgruntled people waiting hours in line for their documents! I think this was just an excuse to check up on me."

Red smirked. "Don't be so presumptuous, Donald. That would imply I care about your well being. Perhaps you _have_ seen too many of those buddy cop movies."


	2. Chapter 2

****Lockdown****

 ** **(AU: 216 Tom Keen)****

 ** **A/N:**** **Short one written after being frustrated with the plot in 216 and by the way things were going, I thought they'd have Liz held without trial after that episode. And remember that guy who helped Red in Luther Braxton? Desmond something? Liked him because he helped Red after the explosion and warned Red that he was outgunned but he didn't listen because of** **Lizzie.** **I wondered what happened to him afterwards, so wrote him in. I'm not happy about the end, may be slightly cheesy in the romance department. Sorry.**

 ** **Summary:**** **Liz ends up in federal prison, after her unfortunate interrogation by the federal judge regarding the innocent harbormaster's death and gets an unexpected visitor. Red/Liz**

 ** **Disclaimer:**** **I don't own The Blacklist, or any of its recognizable characters. No copyright infringement intended.**

"God, this feels like some kind of a twisted déjà vu..." Elizabeth Keen mumbled through the hands that covered her face.

She was hunched over on the stiff bed, her feet crossed, her back against the cold wall of the solitary cell. The last time she came this close to a cell, was when she was visiting Red in lockup. She told herself she was not going to break, she had to stay calm. Something, or someone will get her out of here, otherwise she will have to go to federal court and reveal everything she said to that judge and would most likely be sent to some shithole never to be seen again.

Suddenly she heard footsteps outside, she thought a guard was probably doing his rounds. Soon she realized that there were two sets of footsteps and they were nearing her cell, until they stopped right in front of it. The tiny hole opened on the metal door to her cell and the voice said, "Miss Keen, you have a visitor."

The hole closed again and the sound of the door opening, startled her, making her jump from the bed. She was a nervous wreck all day, waiting for the worst. She hung her head and took a deep breath, closed her eyes briefly to calm down and then looked up at the door. The first thing she saw was the familiar finely polished set of shoes that walked in and then... What the hell? Reddington!

Out of all the people who could have come to visit her Ressler, Cooper, Aram, or even Samar, he was the last one she expected to see. Not that she didn't think he wouldn't want to come but for God's sake, he was the FBI's most wanted! He didn't exactly have visiting privileges!

She knew she shouldn't be surprised by anything he did anymore, he's proven pretty unpredictable, still she had trouble believing he was actually there. "Red! What the hell are you doing here? How did you even get in?"

She didn't ask how he managed to walk inside the prison full of guards and inmates and not being recognized or apprehended.

He laughed briefly, as if her question was simply absurd and then replied, "Lizzie, I told you there isn't a prison on Earth where I don't know a few guys," And then with his confident voice came a reminder to her that not so long ago he was held in a CIA black site The Factory, a place hundred times worse and he walked out slightly worse for wear but safe. It may be crazy for him to be here but he must have a plan. He always does.

She frowned at him, while he continued, "and I happen to have a real ace in this hole." He smirked and nodded at the guard beside the door. "Thank you, Desmond."

"Mr Reddington," he nodded back, "Just returning the favor, for my wife."

Reddington cocked his head to the side, observing him, the small smile never leaving his face. "Ah, and how is Nadine? I imagine she is very pleased to see you every day, now that you are closer and not overseas. I must admit when I offered you the job opportunity, I didn't think you'd choose to be a guard again. Although I am pleased that you are, for Lizzie's sake." With that said he smiled gently at Liz, who was watching their exchange with quiet interest and added, "It is very fortuitous."

The guard Desmond, treated her kindly and respectfully since she arrived, unlike several others who either made lewd remarks or glared at her, seeing nothing but a killer.

"I did as you asked, you have about 8 minutes with no surveillance. I will come and get you." Desmond said, before closing the door on his way out.

"Short and to the point. Would you believe, a truly honest and kind man, that Desmond. Helped me out with that Luther Braxton business but he would not accept my money, only wanted to be closer to his wife."

Liz sighed and sat down on the bed, waiting for an explanation for his surprise visit. Reddington noticed her change of mood and his smirk disappeared. He walked over to the bed and sat down next to her, the bed springs creaking slightly under their combined weight. "Lizzie..." He spoke gently and chanced at taking her hand in his.

Liz stiffened, surprised at this intimate gesture of comfort but didn't remove her hand. "Why are you here, Red? This is taking it too far, even for you. Walking into a prison again?"

"We do not have much time," He stated the obvious, his finger lightly caressing her hand. Liz would never admit it to anyone but it was getting very hard to stay stubbornly opposed to him (a Fed and a criminal, we do make great team, for a dark comedy!), when he was comforting her like this. She was aware that he cared about her, deeply, for some reason, more than his own life, as the recent Kings' auction proved to her. She even realized then, (a scary realization indeed), that she reciprocated something deep for him, _something_ not yet defined, that was making her risk her own life for him (again and again) and even dared to admit it to him after that near death experience. Maybe now she was opposing this, because he rejected her help and care then?

She was sure now, that if she gave in fully to this feeling (she won't dare name it yet) it would be hard to let go. She has been disappointed and hurt enough in more than a year and she can't let herself be fooled again. (Maybe she should stop trying to overanalyze every single thing?) She knew that she couldn't even trust her so-called profiling skills anymore, Tom or whatever the hell his real name is, was her downfall. It was as if he was a test in life and she failed it not once but twice!

"It's enough..." She said, "You can't break me out of this prison, I will have to testify in front of a court room full of people and they found new evidence! Pretty soon I will get sent to some faraway detention facility, or get stuck in a box, just like you. Some might even call it irony." She laughed bitterly. Maybe she did deserve this, it was her own fault, for stupidly blindly believing that her pathological liar, fake school teacher, spy and manipulating bastard of an annulled husband was actually in love with her, that he was a good person. He killed an innocent man! For her, he claimed. Even worse! There was nothing good in him, only his self-important, sociopathic, murderous, amoral self. That fact that he wasn't here, testifying on her behalf, showed his true feelings, or lack thereof.

"Lizzie, I can assure you that so called evidence was planted, Mr Kaplan would never miss that casing. She's been my associate for many years and she never made a mistake."

"Everyone makes mistakes sometimes. She certainly missed that body," She retorted.

"The body was moved, you were obviously monitored, somebody else was there and moved it, after we left... We are dealing with professionals."

"Aleko said-"

"They told him his brother will be denied treatment if he didn't reveal the location of the body."

She frowned, "Who are _they_? How do you know this?"

"He told me, after I convinced him it was in his interest to do so."

"What, you told him he'd get stabbed in prison?" As soon as she said it, she felt ashamed, a piercing pain in her chest. Why? Why does she say these cruel things to him? To push him away?

He sighed, he sounded exhausted and she could see by a brief show of emotion in his expression, that her accusation hurt him a lot but before she could apologize he replied. "His brother's surgery was successful."

Liz felt like such an idiot, with her inconsiderate words. Of course, it shouldn't surprise her by now that he would do something nice for the innocents involved. She long suspected that that was his main currency in making deals, or getting people's trust and unwavering loyalty. After everything that has happened so far, she knew he had a moral code, he was not a monster, even if he thought he was. Her fake husband on the other hand...

"Naturally, in return he recanted his testimony against you. That is why _they_ were desperate and needed to plant the evidence." He said.

After she stayed silent, he continued, "I had to come. Desmond informed me that you are to be transferred in a few days time. You will be taken to an as of yet unknown detention site, there was to be no trial, Lizzie..." He gently squeezed her hand, as he stared at her intently, warily, waiting for her reaction.

 _You make it sound like treason, so black and white. It's not, it's green._ She stared back, her eyes wide. "The judge said..."

He shook his head. "He's merely a puppet, Lizzie. The people in the shadows, are pulling his strings. I believe that detective who pursued you is genuinely honest and has no idea what he got himself into."

That innocent harbormaster was dead because of her actions. Because she decided to go behind Red's back and kept Tom chained up on a boat. She wanted to get her control back, her life back on track but instead, she lost even more control and had caused someone's death as a result and that judge, she told him about Reddington? Now he was in danger too.

Suddenly it became too hard to breathe, something hard slowly pressing on her chest, the sudden surge of massive grief almost suffocating her. The final push. The bubble of cognitive dissonance finally burst and it was overwhelming. She was drowning. Again. "Oh God, Red..." She choked out, her free hand covering her eyes, welling up with tears. "I'm so sorry, I told him about you. I-I was so stupid! He knows about the Fulcrum! What the hell is wrong with me?! It's like I had a brain transplant right before his interrogation!"

"Oh, Lizzie..." He drew her hand up to his mouth and kissed her knuckles lightly, before laying his other hand on her shoulder and slowly embracing her. "It's going to be alright," He murmured softly, surprising her at the intensity of feeling she heard in his voice.

Her head rested on his chest, which was getting wet from her tears. She was soon gasping and shaking, her grief turned into a full blown panic attack.

She felt his hand caressing her hair. "Sweetheart, it's going to be okay. Just breathe. Slowly, in and out." When he noticed she finally calmed down a little, he kissed her temple and continued softly, "Lizzie, you are not an idiot. Don't ever think that and I do not blame you. You were afraid, he manipulated, pressured you into revealing certain things to stop him from outing the task force. It may have been reckless but also human... You were also thinking of your survival."

She shook her head in disbelief. "How can you just... How can you defend me after I risked your life? I told him you were my CI, if it reaches your criminal partners, you could be killed any day by anyone!"

"You speak as if that is something new." He raised his eyebrow in challenge. "I am in constant danger every day, have been for more than two decades. I am used to it. However I am very concerned about your current safety. That's why I'm here. I have arranged for my people to be on that transfer..."

"No Red, you will not break me out! I will not be a fugitive! And I can't let you risk-"

"This is not negotiable, Lizzie."

"Red-" She started again but he stopped her by placing a hand on her mouth, then it moved to her chin, raising her head up to stare into her eyes. His green eyes looked at her fondly, as if she was the most precious thing in the world. She stared back at him in astonishment.

"Let me do this. Please," He said softly, actually pleading for her life. Liz closed her eyes and sighed.

No matter what happened and what she put him through, he always put her safety above all else. He must have a good plan, for the aftermath. If anything goes wrong and she could never go back to the FBI, at least Red could always make her disappear. Could make them both disappear?

She nodded. "Alright but only if it's not too dangerous for you, I don't want to get you killed. I'm less important than you, in the grand scheme of things."

"You are wrong, Lizzie. You matter." He smiled and stared at her intently.

"Because I still have the Fulcrum." She reasoned, her resistance slowly crumbling.

"No, because _you_ matter." He caressed her cheek, a glint appearing in his eyes.

She stared at him, her mouth slightly parted in shock. "Why?" A hopeful smile formed on her lips as she asked daringly, "Because the ugly fish can not live without its light?"

"Yes." He said, his eyes flickering to her lips, silently asking for permission to kiss her, she beamed at him in consent and he leaned in. He was right. Everything was going to be okay.


	3. Chapter 3

****Hanging on the telephone****

 ** **(AU 220 Quon Zhang)****

 ** **A/N:**** **Another episode that prompted me to write an explanation and I really thought that maybe Liz had a plan to play Tom, the way he played her, in order to find out who he was actually working for, because obviously torture on the boat didn't work. When I started writing this thing after 2x20 I had angst in mind but as it got longer I could not stay serious. Frankly all that angst on the show was killing me so it got a bit fluffy towards the end.**

 ** **Summary:**** **AU 220 Quon Zhang, What if Liz had a plan that involved Tom Keen, when she went to him in the rain and what if Red did manage to get her on the phone before that? Basically a fix-it for that episode.**

 ** **Disclaimer:**** **I don't own The Blacklist, or any of its recognizable characters. No copyright infringement intended.**

Liz sat in her car, the rain was falling, a proper downpour and it was gloomy, which she thought fit her mood perfectly.

 _ _"Are you in love with he__ _r?"_

 _ _"I'm not gonna tell you what happened, Lizzie."__

He didn't deny it. She provoked him and he told her some of the truth (nothing new there) but he didn't deny her suspicion. Liz wasn't sure if she should be relieved or terrified at the implication.

Was this connection between them only because she reminded him of her mother? And what was so goddamn terrible that he couldn't tell her what really happened on the night of the fire?

Just as her hand grabbed the door handle, her phone vibrated with Nick's Pizza flashing on the display.

'Speak of the devil.'

She shook her head and pressed down on the red button. A few seconds passed till it flashed again.

'Persistent son of a bitch.'

Even though she thought he probably deserved it after once again keeping things from her, she didn't like ignoring him, especially as he was hurt. The truth was she was worried about him but she can't get sidetracked. For this thing with "Tom" to work, Reddington must be out of the way. He must think she doesn't care, that she hates him for originally inserting Tom into her life, even if his intentions were noble.

The plan was constructed in her head, one sleepless night weeks ago, after Tom was exonerated but before Reddington got shot. It required from to her to completely lose herself. Play a character. To be somebody else.

'Everyone must see you as weak and silly, you must make uncharacteristic mistakes. Play stupid so that your target finds you like that and puts down their defenses and reveal something they would never do if they thought you dangerous.'

Tom, or Jacob, or whatever the hell his real name is, doesn't seem to suspect a thing. Neither does Reddington. But Red is much smarter than him and won't reveal the whole truth to her, no matter how much she pushed his buttons.

She only regrets that in her plan, she mustn't show her concern for Red's well being. She mustn't show that he's become an irreplaceable fixture in her messed up life.

She sighed and stared at Tom-Jacob's safe house through the rain-soaked window. She hated this. But she would have to think of this as going undercover, playing a lover to an assassin. A man she suspected was involved with the Cabal. A man who also played a role, played her.

Her phone vibrated shortly, signaling she received a text. Thinking she missed a call from the Post office, she looked down and frowned as she read it. It couldn't even be considered a message, as it consisted of only one word.

 _ _No.__

She stared at it in surprise. The sender was unknown but she knew it came from him. He must have switched phones again. Who else could it be? And what was the question?

She willed herself to leave her phone in the car and just do what she planned, go to Jacob.

But she couldn't. She needed to know if he was okay and what this message meant, so she typed up her reply and hit send.

 _ _What was the question?__

A couple of minutes passed and she thought he gave up.

 _ _Lizzie.__

She rolled her eyes. She could see him getting annoyed at her, that muscle under his eye twitching. Hear his voice in that disapproving tone.

But she would not give him the satisfaction of an easy way out. No matter how much she hated pushing him away.

 _ _Well?__ She sent back.

 _ _Where are you?__ He asked instead.

 _ _Deflecting? How very... you. Two can play this game, Mr. Kershaw.__

 _ _Lizzie.__

She stared at the letters that made the name he called her. The name somehow seemed less significant to her when he didn't speak it out loud, in that special way, as Liz liked to think, reserved only for her.

 _ _My name is not an answer to everything. Although I guess it's not really my name, is it?__

 _ _It has been for many years. Where are you?__

 _ _Did you name me?__

Again she waited a couple of minutes. Either he was thinking what to reveal, or he was slow, as unaccustomed to texting. She thought that even if he wasn't on the run, he would still use the old style, burner-like phones, instead of smartphones. He was old-fashioned like that. And she remembered he told her once that he fancied himself a bit of a Luddite, not liking much of today's technology and preferring the old-school methods and face-to-face interactions. But naturally only when it wasn't too personal, like in this case. Maybe he would spill more secrets to her if they weren't communicating in person. Funny, she never saw him as a coward.

 _ _No.__

She exhaled in frustration. So much for revealing more.

 _ _Is that your final answer? And btw what was the original no an answer to?__

 _ _Do not abbreviate words, it makes you sound stupid and you're not.__

She stared at the screen in disbelief. He was chiding her.

 _ _Those are called text acronyms or shorthand and will you answer me?__

 _ _I will, if you do.__

 _ _In my car.__ She answered.

 _ _I was not in love with her.__

She read it several times. She would never admit it out loud but she was relieved.

 _So he wasn't in love with her mother but he knew her._

He was Naval intelligence and she was KGB. Were both of her parents foreign agents? Were they part of his assignment? His mission? Was her father the target because of the Fulcrum?

Before she decided to try and ask him, her phone vibrated again with a new text.

 _ _Are you safe, Lizzie?__

 _You can't just say that and expect me to change the subject_ she wrote but then decided to take pity on him, as she knew he was really worried about her.

 _ _Yes. Don't worry.__

 _ _I always worry.__

She closed her eyes. Feeling them fill with tears. She could not help getting emotional over his concern.

How could she think he was only using her all of this time. After the run in with the Kings, she knew they had a tight bond, she realized the extent of his care for her (he said her name when he thought he'd die, for God's sake!) and the extent of the risk she would take to save him. She knew he valued her life, more than his own and that made him even more tragic in her eyes.

 _ _You shouldn't.__ She sent back.

 _ _Is he nearby?__

She knew who "he" was. She didn't know why she thought he wouldn't have someone tail her. In these circumstances it would be especially necessary.

 _ _Yes.__ She typed, deciding to forgo the mystery and see what he made of it.

 _ _I will not tell you to be careful, Lizzie. Despite recent appearances I do not and will not trust that man. I do however trust you.__

She smiled while reading.

 _ _Thank you, Red.__ Not waiting for an answer, she decided to add.

 _ _I'm sorry for what I said about your apartment. It was rude of me. It has a certain charm, like you. Although I'm not sorry about ransacking it as I wanted to provoke you and it worked, you finally gave me some of the answers.__

Close to five minutes passed with no answer and she was getting worried that she made a mistake.

Just as she was considering sending another apology, her phone vibrated again.

 _ _I apologize for the wait. That was a long answer and it's hard typing and squinting to read the very small letters on this phone. I had to get my glasses.__

She smirked at the sudden image of him sitting relaxed with his glasses on and looking at case files.

 _ _You wear glasses? Why have I never seen you with them? Were you afraid I'd find you adorable?__

 _ _Lizzie. Do not make fun of my glasses!__

She laughed as she knew he was the one making light of the thing, giving her an opportunity to mock diffuse this long tension between them.

When she didn't answer for a long time, she got another text from him.

 _ _Lizzie, are you still with me? I despise this texting or whatever. I hope you will appreciate that I'm trying.__

 _ _I do.__

 _ _No matter how much I find it lacking or impersonal, at this moment it is easier for me to communicate with you. Dembe was right again!__

She laughed at his last line. So it was Dembe that suggested he text her?

 _ _I hope you understand that some things must remain a secret, for now. Would you consider waiting for me?__

She thought about what he asked of her. Will she wait for his answers and not search for them herself?

 _ _I understand if you no longer trust me but consider this - we were always a great team. Please give me the privilege of working with you again and I promise you at the right moment, you will have your answers.__

 _ _I trust you Red. I know now that I am an important piece in your chess game, or whatever the hell you call it but you will have to change the rules, or reveal your moves to me if you want us to win. We need to be on equal ground.__

 _ _And yes I'm still angry with you about Tom. I need some time to get over it.__

This time she got his text quicker.

 _ _I will honor your wishes. I will not pressure you, just advise that time is of the essence.__

 _Yes, no pressure at all! She thought and read further._

 _ _I have grown accustomed to your view on blacklisters. It's a shame you rarely make use of your profiling skills these days.__

 _ _I seem to remember I screwed up with that serial killer. You were closer to the profile.__ _She wrote back._

 _ _Ah but you forget that together we were right!__

She shook her head at the words he repeated from that time they met in the coffee shop to talk about the Fulcrum.

She couldn't deny that she missed their meetings, his often ridiculous anecdotes, about his travels, or adventures on the run. She missed the lighter tone of his voice, the one he used to use only with her, his occasional, yet very intentional touches.

They were getting closer before Berlin happened. Before she imprisoned Tom and lied to Red all that time. She felt ashamed for some of her actions and felt indirectly responsible for the harbormaster's murder. But she no longer felt guilty, because it was Tom who murdered him and then made it look like he did it for her. He was a sociopath, sick, pathological liar and obviously deluded, if he thought that she would fall for him again.

He called her a bitch that one time. She might be a bitch, but a cunning one. She will play him to reveal his real employer to her and finally get some answers.

That was the essence of her plan. Maybe she should include Red? After all, the harbourmaster's murder happened because she underestimated Tom and thought she could handle it without him.

Together we were right. Red's words kept repeating like a mantra in her head. She looked down at her phone, noticing that almost ten minutes had passed since the last text.

 _ _Lizzie?!__ She read on the screen.

She decided she had enough of impersonal and pressed number 7 on her speed dial.

"Lizzie." He breathed out, in a worried tone. "Is everything okay?"

"It is now." She said. "I would like to meet."

She heard him let out a breath in relief. "Are you sure? You said you needed time-"

"I'm sure. There's something I need to discuss. It must be in person. When are you free?"

"Tomorrow? I will give you the exact time, after Dembe decides on how much aimless walking we'll be doing!"

She smiled. "I'm sure he's only worried about your mobility. After all you're not getting any younger!" She teased.

By the tone of his laugh, she guessed he shook his head in amusement. "Oh, sweetheart, I can assure you everything is in working order, just needs a bit of tune up!"

She laughed. "Oh I'd love to see you ordered around by Dembe or Mr Kaplan!"

"I'm starting to regret this. Having Dembe and Kaplan conspire against me is hard enough but you..." He sounded very amused. "They do not order me around! I simply comply with their wishes for my well being."

"Sure." She rolled her eyes in amusement, even though he couldn't see her.

"Having said that I would give _you_ certain allowances, if you wish for us to walk together? I've always enjoyed our walks."

She smiled at his answer.

"Yes, I would like that. You suggest a meeting place this time? Don't want you to get shot again!" She joked but he obviously heard some guilt in her voice.

"Lizzie, you are not to blame. I knew the risk and decided to go anyway." He assured her softly.

"Thank you. Before you go, could you answer me one thing?"

"I told you..."

"Yes, yes! All will be revealed at the right time but at least tell me the name of your cat? It's been bugging me ever since I saw her!"

Instead of an answer she heard a short laugh on his end. It was a sincere sound of happiness and it made her feel much better for the future.

"Cat." He said.

"Yes, what's its name?"

"I just told you." He sounded amused.

"It's called Cat?!" She laughed. "That's not very original?"

He laughed back. "You will have to ask Dembe. She is his companion."

"Dembe!"

"Yes, he found her in our basement. Poor thing was freezing and hungry and sneaked into our building. He noticed her one day and took her in, warmed her up, fed her and started calling her Cat. He assured me it was a practical decision and as our... business venture was not safe for us, let alone pets, he would eventually call the local ASPCA. I warned him not to get too attached but naturally he did. I do understand the appeal. It appears dangerous and cunning on the outside but is soft and cuddly on the inside."

"Red, did you just compare me to a cat?"

"Aren't you presumptuous? I was actually thinking of myself. What is that? Dembe agrees with me. Ugh... No, I will not put you on speakerphone, Dembe! I'm having a private conversation with Lizzie!"

She heard some shuffling noises and whispering, one side sounded very annoyed. She couldn't hear anything that was said. Red probably covered the phone with his hand for privacy.

She laughed, enjoying their banter. She looked at the the phone and her eyes went wide in shock when she noticed the time. They've been talking for more than two hours. That must be a record. Well technically they started texting each other first, so it's around an hour and a half of talking.

"Yes, that is fine with me. No, now is not the time," She heard Red say to someone, she assumed Dembe.

"Red?" She cut in.

"Ah Lizzie, Dembe, apologizes for interrupting our conversation. I apologize too, as I must end this call soon..."

"Oh yes, I'm sorry for keeping you. You must have more important..."

"No, Lizzie, you misunderstood me. Nothing is more important and I have truly enjoyed our texting and talk but I must go now. Dembe insists I do some exercises with him before bed."

She smiled at his answer. "I'm sure he's not as bad as you make him seem."

He let out one of his head-shaking laughs. "You have no idea! Oh and by the way, he will drop by tomorrow with a new phone for you. If you'd like to text occasionally, it would be safer."

"Don't tell me you fell in love with texting?"

"No, you could say I've grown accustomed to its necessity."

"Yes, just like I've grown accustomed to you. Goodnight and please tell Dembe I said hi." She waited a beat and not receiving an answer, she hung up.

He was probably still thinking about her comment, while Dembe made him do light exercises.

She will never know that Dembe decided to skip the obligatory exercise and gave him a firm lecture on not telling everything to Elizabeth. Dembe hated to see him distressed and thought that was not good for keeping up with his recovery.

"Technically I did not lie to her, Dembe and you interrupted me. You gave her that name, it is not my fault the poor thing picked something else."

Dembe glared at him, from his relaxed spot on the sofa. A book lay opened in his lap. He closed it and set it aside on the table.

"Really, Raymond?" He looked at the cat, who purred lazily on the said table and said, "Lizzie," The cat suddenly raised her head, at which he continued, "come here." The cat jumped down from the table and straight into his lap, where she settled and continued to purr happily, while he petted her gently.

Red made a face and gesticulated with his hands in a "who, me?" gesture. "What would you have me do, Dembe? I couldn't exactly tell her, 'Oh and by the way, Lizzie, she actually answers to Lizzie. It's so funny how that came to be. You see, this happened because I may or may not have called out your name a few times, in my pain medication-induced sleep and the silly ball of fur adopted it.'" He sighed.

The only answer he got from Dembe was an eye roll and a shake of his head.


	4. Chapter 4

****What's in a Name****

 ** **(214: T. Earl King VI)****

 ** **A/N: Written long ago, after seeing 214: T. Earl King VI for the first time. A short take on Red's devotion to Lizzie.****

 ** **Summary:**** **Her name was like a prayer. It gives him comfort in his final moments. Red's POV.**

 ** **Disclaimer:**** **I don't own The Blacklist, or any of its recognizable characters. No copyright infringement intended.**

 _ _"Lizzie..."__

It has been 26 years, 3 months, 11 days since the first time he came close to death.

Ever since the fire, he has been on the brink, flirting with Mr Death, enjoying life to the fullest because he knew that he was living on borrowed time, stalling the obvious conclusion of his crusade against the Cabal, the Aliance, getting closer to The Event in 2017.

His chess match against Mr Death was nearing its end. His queen was gone.

It had started as a game, all of the pieces in their place, the Queen as the most important piece was making progress. He was sure of a checkmate.

Then when she was taken by the Stewmaker, the rules were changed, it was no longer about the game, it was about saving the most imortant piece his Queen, his Lizzie.

 _ _"Lizzie..."__

How can just a name mean so much to him? She became so important to him, that just saying her name, would bring him comfort, give him strength, be his light in the constant darkness.

 _ _"Lizzie..."__

The Knight that jumps high falls prey to a pawn. The Queen is still standing. She will continue. It was time for the Knight to fall.

She will be fine. She's remarkable. He's so proud of who she has become and if this was his final moment, he's happy in the knowledge that she tried to help him, that she hesitated when he told her to go, that he saw something akin to anguish in her expression when she said, _"You could be killed."_ It gave him hope that she cared.

 _ _"Lizzie..."__

Being close to death, wasn't at all what you would expect. There were no flashbacks, no life flashing before your eyes. A disappointment.

He took a moment to remember Carla, or Naomi, as she went by these days. His former partner. He hoped that she was finally happy wherever she was. And Jennifer. No longer a dear sweet 6-year old girl, with pigtails and a ballet obsession but a grown woman who didn't want to be found, who didn't need him, who didn't want him. Just as well. They were both safer as far away from him anyway. They luckily avoided the fate of his real family.

 _ _"Lizzie..."__

It was time to go. Time to join his first love, see his little girl one more time. He closed his eyes, feeling the cold metal of Yabaari's gun pressing into the back of his head. At least it will be quick. When he thinks about it, it's a win-win situation; Yabaari gets his bounty and he finally gets a rest after all these years. He was exhausted.

He was not afraid for himself. He was afraid for Lizzie. He hoped that she made it safely with the boy Vincent and that the FBI didn't slip on any banana peels this time.

 _ _"Lizzie..."__

He tried to imagine her as if she was next to him, the smell of her perfume, how breathtaking she looked in that dress and with the hair pulled up, showing much more of her beautiful face. How he wished he had a chance to kiss her. But being in that box prevented him from anything. He could only watch, as she ran away with the boy.

 _Click._ The gun was ready. There was no way out of this.

He sent out a prayer to whatever deity might listen that she would at least get out of this safely. Her name came out like a final breath from his lips,

"Lizzie..."

And that's when it happened, the gunshot but the pain and darkness never came. Yabaari fell down dead, his gun dropped to the ground.

Red turned suddenly, as if kicked, his face momentarily frozen in shock.

 _An angel?!_

"Lizzie!" He said, his voice affected from sudden emotion, his eyes wide in amazement. For a second he thought his mind was playing tricks on him.

She came back? For him? How? Why? Did she hear him?

And would she be another one of his stories, shared through the years?

 _"There I was at Death's door, when suddenly, I saw an angel bathed in bright light, her name was Lizzie..."_

When she moved swiftly towards him, he finally recovered and managed to ask for the keys to the handcuffs.

"Okay." She said and it finally was. Lizzie was there.


	5. Chapter 5

****Impasse or headway?****

 ** **(206 AU: The Mombassa Cartel)****

 ** **A/N:**** **The Mombasa cartel episode was one of my favorites, because not only did we learn more about Raymond Reddington and his love for animals but also about my third favorite character, the lovely Dembe Zuma and his tragic backstory and how and why he is with Red. I also felt this episode could have benefited from a hidden/missing scene, as Red and Lizzie desperately needed to have this talk sooner.**

 ** **Summary:**** **Red has an enlightening conversation with Lizzie.**

 ** **Disclaimer:**** **I don't own The Blacklist, or any of its recognizable characters. No copyright infringement intended.**

The drive felt strangely calm for Red. Almost deathly calm but it was somehow appropriate, especially considering the final outcome of his encounter with Geoff, only a few hours ago. His gaze was directed at the passing scenery through the window of the black sedan. Darkness, light, darkness, light, then darkness again, as the car glided under harsh street lighting. It reflected his current state of mind, as he was mentally shifting all day between his dark and light side. It was exhausting.

He craved for some balance, some peace of mind. Hopefully this meeting he had set up will secure that leverage he will need in his future dealings with Berlin and for the fight ahead.

A loud shrill of a disposable phone, broke him out of contemplation. He took it out of his jacket pocket and after briefly glancing at the display and recognizing the number, he placed it on his ear to answer.

"Li-"

 _"Where is he?"_ Red didn't even have time to say her name, before Liz spoke, in a very angry tone.

She was so loud, even Dembe heard her and at the red light, turned in his seat to look at Red in query. Red smiled at him and mouthed _Lizzie_. Dembe shook his head, smiling at him knowingly and got back to driving.

"Why Lizzie, how nice of you to call! Just out of curiosity, what are you wearing?" He said in an overly jovial voice.

 _"Don't want to hear it! Where is Geoff Perl?"_

"Is he missing?" He asked innocently.

 _"You know damn well he is! We were at his house. We had a warrant for his arrest and his house looks pristine, like it just went on the market! Did you get in touch with Mr Kaplan recently?"_

He laughed in that exaggerated smug tone. "Don't be ridiculous! Mr Kaplan is off visiting her family."

Besides, this one wasn't as messy and could be handled by her associate. The man was a marvel!

She went silent, Red assumed she was surprised and didn't expect Mr Kaplan to have family.

"Why all the fuss? Maybe Geoff just went away, on account of you now knowing his deepest darkest secrets."

 _"No, I don't think you'd let him go down that easy. I know this one was personal for you. I could read it on your face."_

Lizzie, sweetheart, you have no idea. He thought.

"Oh? Didn't know I was so transparent. Speaking of which, how's that deep dark secret of yours doing, Lizzie? I imagine it's not very comfortable on that ship."

 _"I don't know what you mean."_

"You really need to work on your lying, sweetheart. That lovely smile of yours earlier in the park, while _splendid_ to look at, was also very telling. I believe you were conflicted about your secret. So... How is dear old Tom?"

 _"How did you..."_

"How did I know? Oh Lizzie, you should have known by now that I like to be informed and I have _unlimited_ resources. After all, I said I had you watched and protected, I made sure of that even before Meera Malik. Did you really think I wouldn't find out you kidnapped your ex and chained him up?"

 _"But you kept asking and yet never said..."_ He interrupted her.

"I wanted, no I _hoped_ you'd tell me yourself. After all, I respected you enough to give you time. I trusted that you will tell me when you use him to find the answers you desperately seek."

She grew silent at his admission but pretty soon she asked. _"Who's the girl?"_

He laughed shortly. "It doesn't work like that. We are not playing twenty questions, Lizzie."

 _"Could have fooled me."_ She responded bitterly.

"And who's deflecting now?" He asked. When she didn't speak for a whole minute, he cleared his throat and continued softly, almost melancholy. "Lizzie..." He trailed off.

She waited. "What has happened to us?" She frowned thinking for a moment, what he meant. To their uncharacteristic, but slightly symbiotic relationship?

 _"I don't know..."_ But she knew in a way. Somehow these past few months, in their search for leads, for Berlin, after Tom's abduction and imprisonment, and his interrogations; she had started seeing Red in a less grey and a more dark light. The fact that his ex-wife hinted at him being not who she thinks he is, didn't help matters. Her mistrust started soon after his admittance of killing Sam and continued on after imprisoning Tom, who was making her believe no one was to be trusted, especially not Red. He also told her Red was involved in Berlin's daughter's death.

 _"I miss..."_ She stuttered, getting emotional. _"I'm so tired."_ She sighed.

"I miss it as well." Of course he understood what she didn't say out loud. _I miss the time before Sam... Berlin._ He made a decision. It was time. There were at an impasse. "She's important to Berlin," he started.

She frowned, surprised that he was answering her. _"The girl?"_

"Yes. All I can say is that she means as much to him, as you do to me." That's a real vague non-answer answer but it's something.

 _"He said not to trust you."_ She started. Of course, she meant Tom.

"And you believed him..." It was not a question but a fact. He didn't say "after everything he did to you, after everything I did for you" but it was hanging in the air.

 _"I don't... I don't know, Red. Sometimes I think I do trust you... then there are all these questions... I feel like I'm in deep water and they're dragging me down to the bottom... Everything's so messed up. I don't see myself anymore."_

He closed his eyes at her admission. His chest hurt. "I'm sorry, sweetheart." He said, openly emotional.

Her eyes teared up at his frank admission. _"I... know. Me too."_ She didn't thank him for visiting her then in the hospital, for staying with her through the night, she would have to face the implication it presented, the feelings involved. It was simply too dangerous right now, to put it out there, to say it out loud.

She was grateful to Aram for telling her in confidence, how he saw Red sitting by her bed in the hospital, holding her hand. How he was the one who put the earphones on her and played her music for comfort.

It made her forget the paranoia that was gnawing at her, choking her. To think for a moment where she was going and what she was doing. She was terrified with the knowledge that she has changed. She is now grey and leaning towards the dark.

"Lizzie..." he started again. "You don't know how much I..." She heard his breath hitch and she imagined he was trying not to cry. His face was probably the same as when he told her about what he did for Sam. Yes, she now acknowledged that he did do what was best for Sam. They were friends and he was trying to ease his suffering and she knew no one wanted to go through that. She remembered the last time he had a cancer scare, they were discussing his options and somehow they'd gotten to the subject of euthanasia... She stopped him, didn't want to discuss it any further but the last thing Sam said to her was "Elizabeth, if it comes to the point of no return, I hope that you would be strong enough to do it."

But if it came down to it and if she made it to the hospital, she's not sure if she would be strong enough to do it, even if it was to ease his suffering. She realized she was angry because she thought she failed Sam, because she wasn't there to do it and she didn't get to say goodbye. She heard him sigh and waited.

"I would never... I have never lied to you. Yes, I have kept some things from you... I do want to tell you all that I know and want to so much but... I can't. Even if you hate me... If not knowing would keep you safe, I would never tell you." It was useless to argue about this with him.

 _"Red..."_ She said sadly.

"Yes, Lizzie?"

A moment passed but this time in comfortable silence, until she continued. _"I don't hate you."_

He let out a sigh of relief, he felt like a ray of sunshine had just burst through his window and warmed him up all over. Red never thought he'd feel this elated again. It was almost rejuvenating.

He chuckled. "I am so very pleased you don't."

 _"I'm sorry I doubted you. Would you give me more time, with Tom?"_

"Yes." He responded without thinking.

 _"Just like that?"_ She sounded surprised.

"Yes. All I ask is that you include me at some point."

 _"Alright but no guns or torture."_

"Aw Lizzie, you just took all the fun out of it. I'm surprised you got anything out of him."

 _"I have my ways."_ She said mysteriously

"I'm intrigued. Do tell."

 _"Not now, Red."_

"Alright. A later time actually suits me, I do have an appointment to keep." He said cryptically.

 _"Oh?"_

"Yes, can't keep a girl waiting. Dembe, make a right turn there." The man in question nodded.

 _"Who..."_ She started to ask but he interrupted her.

"Must dash, Lizzie. Don't want to be late."

 _"But Red..."_

"Talk later, sweetheart." He said softly. Not giving her a chance to respond, he threw the burner phone through the open window.

Lizzie shook her head. Some things never change. "Change of plans, Raymond?" Dembe asked.

"No my friend, stay on course. We're finally going in the right direction."

Dembe nodded. He was pleased as it seemed that Raymond and agent Keen have finally resolved their differences.


	6. Chapter 6

****Not a Joke****

 ** **A/N: This is kind of a strange crossover and another attempt at humor. I just had a thought, what if these two interesting characters met and ended up with this.****

 ** **Summary:**** **A long time ago after saving his brother, Bill Arnello told Dr Gregory House about his contact, a certain Concierge of Crime, who can make him disappear in 60 seconds... The Blacklist/House MD crossover. Spoilers: Pre-S1 of The Blacklist and final season of House MD.**

 ** **Disclaimer:**** **I don't own The Blacklist, or any of its recognizable characters. Neither do I own House MD. No copyright infringement intended.**

"Hit me." The disheveled man, sitting on a stool in the unusualy empty bar, pushed his empty tumbler towards the bartender.

"The thought had crossed my mind..." The man behind the bar muttered under his breath.

The lonely occupant, sporting something that was supposed to be a five o' clock shadow but mixed in with dirt, gave him a certain look, that appeared more like a grimace and said, "Let me guess, you're a stand-up comedian by day and bartender by night?"

The bartender glared at him. "One more comment like that and you're out." He pointed at the door for effect.

The man smirked, completely nonplussed. "That's no way to treat your only customer. Besides I'm meeting some guy, he should be here soon."

The bartender crossed his arms and gritted out annoyed. "Don't care. We close in half an hour."

House shook his head and responded, "No wonder it's empty when you close at 10 pm. This is a bar for kiddies!"

"This is not a night club- " The bartender was interrupted by the phone ringing and he picked up the old-fashioned receiver. "Yeah? He's here." At that House looked up at the bartender.

"Alone. Who? Right. When? Okay." He hung up with, "That was your contact, they will be here in a couple of minutes." At that he picked up his empty tumbler and started washing it in the sink.

House stared at him, getting annoyed with the sudden silence. "What? No comments about me meeting shady guys in your bar?" He tapped his cane at the nearest stool to get him to turn back from the sink. He looked nervous to him.

The bartender cleared his throat and glared at him. "Mr. Jones is a good friend and is always welcome."

"Sure, mob is always welcome." House muttered.

The man shook his head and House noticed beads of sweat on his bald head.

"Mr. Jones is not a mobster, he's a businessman. In fact, he owns this bar."

"You don't say? You might want to let him know then that it's not very profitable."

The bartender ignored his further comment and said, "Here comes his associate."

House quickly turned around and saw a tall and imposing dark-skinned man enter through the front door, his eyes sweeping the interior. He nodded at the bartender and looked at House.

"You are Dr. Gregory House, you called for Mr. Jones?" His voice was quietly pleasant, his eyes deadly.

House didn't let that scare him and smirked, speaking up, "Don't tell me, you're Mr. Smith?"

The man in question, continued staring at him seriously.

House coughed, to cover up the fact that the staring was getting him slightly nervous. "I see, so you're the silent but deadly type."

The man stayed silent at which House rolled his eyes and muttered annoyed. "Yes. I was told he was someone who can make a man in trouble disappear."

The man nodded and took out a burner phone out of his pocket, pressing a number on speed dial.

House shook his head. "I talked more with the coma guy."

"It's Dembe. He checks out. Yes." The man now known as Dembe, flipped the phone closed and turned to the bartender. "Mr. Jones appreciates the courtesy and sends his usual regards. You will be compensated for your efforts."

The bartender nodded, slightly nervous. "Please thank him for me."

Dembe nodded in affirmative and said, "Come." to House, who was startled at being adressed finally.

He coughed and said to the bartender, "That's my cue. Later, dude!" He waved at him mockingly and dissapeared following Dembe outside.

Outside, House limped hurriedly after Dembe, who was already across the street, heading in the direction of the expensive black sedan.

"Hey, Dembe! How about a little courtesy for the cripple!" He yelled after him, which made Dembe stop and turn around, staring at him seriously. House wondered if that was his permanent expression, or if he secretly liked classic Hollywood comedies and laughed when no one could see him.

"See, a cane!" He added and raised the said object in the air for effect. Dembe continued staring at him blankly and House rolled his eyes and started limping towards him again.

"Remind me not to invite you to a card game, Mr. Poker face." He said.

Dembe was already by the black Mercedes and he opened the passenger door, holding it open for him.

"Keyser Soze, I presume?" A seemingly pleasant, yet gravely voice asked from inside. House quickly sat down on the unoccuppied seat, next to who he presumed was Mr. Jones. He opted out of immediately answering him and used his powers of deduction to observe him.

He cetainly had the "mob boss" look down pat – the expensive three-piece suit, consisting of a black coat, jacket and vest in the same color, along with a burgundy red tie on a white shirt. But the appearance wouldn't be complete without the black fedora on his head, that partialy shielded his eyes. Yes the face may be smiling but his eyes were hard and serious. Greenishly-grey eyes, if one was to be specific. House concluded that he probably also had a pair of expensive shades somewhere.

Although he would never admit it to anyone, those eyes unnerved him, so instead of staring back, he looked around the car nervously. "Nice wheels. Always loved German cars. Of course right after the good old US of A..."

The Fedora man was now openly smirking at him and yet House still found him very intimidating.

House cleared his throat and finally answered his question. "Yes. I found the name appropriate considering I'm making a deal with the devil."

At that the Fedora man laughed, shaking his head simultaneously and extended his hand to him. "Raymond Reddington but you may call me Red." House stared at the hand in a momentary surprise, before grasping it in his own and responding with, "Call me House."

The man now known as Red, had a firm grip.

"So Dembe tells me you're in need of an escape and would like a two-for one package?"

House nodded. "Yes. One of your old associates, a brother of a former patient said you offer a deal for those who can't pay."

Red pursed his lips and nodded once before responding. "If the client has the skills I need, everything can be arranged. So aside for the documents, I hear you also seek medical assistance and a second opinion for your friend?"

House swallowed as he stared through the window. "Yes, my best friend needs better treatment and I hear you know people for experimental methods that have proven successful but are officialy banned from hospitals? I can also treat him myself but I would need supplies and those drugs and a safe place."

Red nodded in understanding. "My financial wizard checked you out. Your bank account and assets have been seized by the police."

"You read about me? I don't have the funds but in your line of business, I imagine you'd need a doctor and I can be on your speed dial?"

Red chewed on the inside of his mouth and looked ahead at Dembe, who was watching their exchange in the rearview mirror. "Dembe?" The man in question turned around in the driver's seat and spoke up. "It would be intriguing to see him interract with Mr. Kaplan."

To House's shock, Dembe even smiled and Red laughed again but this time it sounded genuine.

"Yes my friend it would be fun!" He said excitedly and extended a hand to House again.

"You have a deal." He took out a burner phone out of his coat pocket and handed it to him.

"My associate will contact you with the details of our agreement and will arrange a second meeting for the exchange."

House let out a breath in relief and said. "Thank you."

"I want to meet your friend as well." At House's look of disapproval he continued, "I meet all of my clients and conduct my business face to face. Also there will be a special guest who will be responsible for taking care of your friend."

"Does this special guest have a special masseuse?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and Red laughed. "I think that can be arranged."

House smirked. "Red, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."


	7. Chapter 7

****Red Sky****

 ** **(Pre-series Night of the fire, AU)****

 ** **A/N:**** **Pre-series, most definitely AU, on the night of the fire, when Red first met Lizzie and inspired by the photo of the writer's timeline in the blu-ray extras for S1, which had the following quote, "Red and partner kill Liz's father."** ****

 ** **Disclaimer:**** **I don't own The Blacklist, or any of its recognizable characters. No copyright infringement intended.**

"Ray, come on, they beat us to it. We gotta go!" Reddington's naval intelligence partner stopped him from entering the target's house.

"Wait! What about the target?" Reddington asked in surprise.

"Dead and the Fulcrum is missing. The whole damn thing is compromised! Heads are gonna roll! And by heads, I mean ours, if we don't scram!" Mike Lawson's been his partner for 5 years and he's never seen this bear of a man this nervous, or frightened.

Reddington gave a short nod and as they turned to get away from the two story house, he heard something unexpected coming from the inside, something that almost made his heart stop. It was a scream! He stopped running towards their vehicle and turned, staring in panic at the large house from which the smoke was coming out. He listened carefully, not daring to breathe, so as to not miss the sound.

For a moment he heard nothing and turned to look at Mike, who asked, "What's going on? Why did you stop?"

"I thought I heard... Mike, are you absolutely certain his family is away from the house?" He asked, his eyes were wide in fear and his voice had taken on a very worried tone.

His partner nodded, "After I found him, didn't have time to check but it's been confirmed. The surveillance guys said the mother was tipped off and ran away with the daughter... Destination unknown."

Mike grabbed his arm forcefully and said, "Let's go..."

He was stopped by a blood-curling scream coming from the inside.

"What the- " He was momentarily startled, while Reddington only took a second to turn away to run back.

"Ray! Stop!" But Mike's cries were not going to stop him. That was a child screaming!

"Mike, that's a little girl screaming! The family is still inside!"

Mike caught up to him, as he was about to open the front door, his hand grabbed his shoulder.

"Hey! There's not time! You can't go in, the house's gonna blow any moment! It's crazy!"

Reddington may have been shorter and gangly younger man but he was well trained and knew how to topple giants. He grabbed the hand on his shoulder and with a quick move, he twisted it and his partner found himself sprawled on the ground, gasping for breath. "Ra-y... ssstop, miss-ion..." He wheezed out, in between coughing but Red was already inside yelling back at him, "Killing innocent children was not part of the mission!"

He hurried along the long hallway, he could barely see his feet from the smoke, let alone where he was going, so he listened. He followed the sounds of the screaming and crying and soon he heard the panicked voice calling from behind a nearby door.

"Mommy! Daddy! Help me!"

He tried the handle, it wasn't hot yet which was good, as it probably meant the fire hasn't reached that side yet but the door was locked. Allowing himself a second to think about how odd that was, he started thinking of a way to get in. He could always go the easier way, as he had his gun with him to blast the lock but he didn't want to accidentally shoot the kid, if she got too close to the door, so he would have to break it instead.

He focused on finding a weak spot in the wooden door. He moved away and with a couple of kicks of his foot, the door's frame splintered at the impact, violently opening on the inside and revealing a smoke covered interior.

He quickly went in and coughed, while looking around frantically for the girl, his eyes were stinging from the smoke.

"Daddy!" The voice screamed to his left and he turned to look at the face of a little girl hiding under the bed, she was dressed in her pajamas and her hand was clutching a stuffed bunny. It was the target's daughter!

"Daddy?! You came back for me!" The girl yelled, her voice shaky but relieved. Her eyes were closed, the smoke probably affected them, so she couldn't see it wasn't her father but Red.

The tears were running down her cheeks. "Is that you? Daddy, please... My eyes hurt, can't see you..." A sudden coughing fit stopped her from further talking.

Red knew what he had to do. He crouched down beside the bed and extended his hands in a welcoming manner, even though she couldn't see him. "No, I'm sorry, sweetheart, your daddy's not here. My name is Red and I can help you find him but first we have to get you out of here." His voice sounded raspy from the smoke, but kind. He remembered the name listed in the file. "Elizabeth- Lizzie, come to me... Follow the sound of my voice."

He waited a moment, watching for movement. The girl hesitated shortly, before slowly crawling out from under the bed and went towards him, her small hands reaching for him.

Red smiled, feeling very relieved. "That's it, sweetheart. Come here." He took one of her hands, the other was desperately clutching her bunny. He took the blanket from the bed and covered her with it, before raising her up in his arms. She had such a small frame and was so light to carry. Her hands went around his neck.

He smiled. "That's a good girl." He said soothingly. "Now you have to be very brave. Can you do that?"

He felt a light brush of her dark hair against his cheek, as she nodded in confirmation.

"Okay, let's go." He strengthened his hold on her and carefully ran out of the room and into the hallway. There were flames almost everywhere and he knew it was a matter of moments until it all collapsed. He hurried for the exit but he still moved way too slow for comfort, trying to avoid the flames.

They were close to the exit doors, barely a few feet away and practically crouching, when he heard a sudden crack from above. He put the girl down and looked up quickly. The ceiling was going to collapse!

He pushed the girl out of the way yelling, "Run, Lizzie! I'm right behind you!"

The girl ran away outside, just as large chunks of the ceiling collapsed on him, the heavy debris landing on his back and pinned him to the floor. He screamed out in pain. He couldn't move and the fire was closing in on him.

"No!" The girl screamed and ran back inside to him.

He was on the brink of unconsciousness but he forced himself to stay awake when he saw her near. "Lizzie... No! Get... away!" He gasped out.

But it was all for nothing, as she wouldn't listen and took his hand, grasping it, pulling it, desperately trying to drag him away. In her attempt to remove the debris by herself, she suddenly cried out in pain and pulled away her arm, cradling it as if injured.

"Lizzie, you're hurt, you have to leave me... Please..." He choked out, openly crying now, from pain and worry, for her. If he survived this he would never forgive himself for hurting this innocent little girl.

Her eyes stung and tears ran down her cheeks, she was scared and her burnt hand hurt but she had to help this kind man because he helped her. She ignored the pain and pulled at his hands. "No! I will help you! And then we'll find my daddy."

Soon they both heard a panicked voice coming from behind them.

"Ray! Where are you?!" It was his partner, he didn't leave.

"Damn it, buddy, answer me!"

"Help! He's hurt!" The girl yelled.

"I'm coming!" They heard him say and pretty soon, they saw him running towards them.

And then he was there, going down on his knees beside them, picking up and removing some of the debris to access how badly Ray was hurt. It didn't look too bad but there could be internal injuries and he didn't know if he should move him, or how bad his back was. He will need help to get him out of there alive.

He looked up at Reddington, his face showing the panic he felt. "Ray, you okay?"

Red raised his head, giving a slight nod, his face covered in sweat and soot but he saw him grimace from pain. "Get her out, then come and get me!" he said, his voice strained.

Mike shook his head in protest. "But you're hurt..."

Red gave him a serious look and growled. "Her first!" At Mike's frown, his gaze softened a little, pleading with him.

Mike nodded in understanding and looked at the girl clutching Reddington's hand and extended his hands, grabbing her around her stomach to pull her up.

The girl kicked at his hands, screamed and shook her head. "No, I won't leave you!"

Mike raised a surprised eyebrow at the girl's emotional attachment to his partner but Reddington shook his head and gritted out. "Promised to find her dad."

Mike tried again, he pulled the girl, more gentle this time. "Let's go, little one. I'll be back for him, okay?"

The girl hesitated but Red have her a small smile and said, "Please, Lizzie..."

She finally nodded and allowed Mike to carry her outside. When they were finally out, the first floor of the two-story house exploded and at the last possible moment, they saw Red somehow managed to stumble outside but his back was on fire. He was screaming in agony.

"No! Let me go!" The girl tried to get away from Mike's arms but he managed to put her in the car, take the blanket and lock the door.

He turned and ran back to Red, who was already rolling on the ground. He patted him with it, until the flames were put out.

As soon as that was done Reddington's eyes closed and his body went limp. He was out cold.

"Ray!" Mike yelled and went down on his knees, carefully checking for a pulse. He exhaled in relief when he found a very faint one and that he was still breathing, although strained.

"Damn what a mess!" He muttered. He checked his watch as he heard an unmistakable sound of coming cars in the distance. They had a few minutes until the clean-up crew got there and they didn't want to be present for that.

They had to go. "Reddington, come on! You gotta wake up! Can't carry your fat ass!"

Red suddenly opened his eyes and started coughing up the smoke from his lungs.

He blinked, his eyes stung but pretty soon they focused on his partner.

"Mike? What happened? Where... am I?"

"Remember the mission? It's a major cockup! No Fulcrum and we've got very little time to get away 'cause you had to save the damn girl!" He shook his head in disapproval.

"Lizzie! She okay?" He managed to ask in worry before getting a coughing fit. He groaned as the pain in his back intensified. He was lying on his side and he will have to move soon but that may prove difficult.

"You're such a damn bleeding heart, Reddington! Yeah, she's safe, thanks to you. In the car and screaming her little head off for you!" He laughed at the absurdity. "Come on, we gotta leave before the cavalry gets here."

"Can't... back hurts." He croaked out.

"If you don't move your ass right away, I'm gonna leave that girl with you. You know I hate kids."

"Lying, bastard..." He rasped out.

Mike laughed again and gently grabbed his uninjured arm. "Yeah but come on, we're not leaving you here. You've got a little girl of your own to think about."

Red managed to numb the pain and put his hand around Mike's neck, letting him help him walk to the car. It took too long but they finally reached the door, he opened it, shushing the girl who was screaming and telling her gently to move away.

When she did, he carefully helped Red inside to lie down on his stomach.

As soon as he was all inside and Mike closed the door, the girl moved towards him happily.

"Red! You are safe! Now we can find daddy!" Red opened his eyes and looked at her. The girl was blinking frantically, apparently her eyes were still half-blind and she was still disoriented. He felt guilty for letting her think that her dad was still alive but it would be easier to get her somewhere safe if she responded to him. Their current safe house was an hour away.

When they finally reached their destination, a little over an hour later, Mike turned off the ignition and turned away to look at them. "We're here. What about her? She's all alone now.

"She won't be. Sam Milhoan owes me a favor. He can take her."

"He lives in Nebraska! How the hell do you plan to get there?! You barely got to the car!"

"My pocket..." He slowly moved his hand, fumbled inside his ruined jacket's pocket, having trouble getting to it, till Mike's hand joined his and managed to take out a piece of paper with Red's messy writing on it.

Mike looked at the writing and back up at Reddington.

"What's this?"

"Emergency number. Call it and tell them 'Red sky at morning' and when they respond with 'sailors take warning...' you will be patched through..."

"What the hell? Why don't I know this? That wasn't the plan."

"That's backup." At Mike's frown he added, "I'm in need of some unofficial assistance. Help us get inside and then you'll call this number for me. I will elaborate later. "

He relented and nodded. "The girl stays the night then?"

Red looked at Lizzie who at some point fell asleep, probably from fear and exhaustion and gently squeezed her hand before answering, "Yes, of course, her safety is the most important thing right now."

Over the next couple of decades, this will be his mantra.


	8. Chapter 8

****Reminiscence and reacquaintance****

 ** **(Pre-series and 1.8 General Ludd AU)****

 ** **A/N:**** **Another different first meeting one-shot, depicting some of 108, Sam's POV, mostly heading into AU territory, especially with the events regarding the fire and how Elizabeth came to be with Sam and when she meets Red again.**

 ** **Disclaimer:**** **I don't own The Blacklist, or any of its recognizable characters. No copyright infringement intended.**

 **2012**

Sam always thought he was living on borrowed time, now he was certain of the fact.

When he first ended up in the hospital, five years ago, he thought that was it and he accepted it. He thought he had a good long life and had great things out of it, especially people. His Lizzie for one.

Lizzie was a gift, she definitely changed his life. She made him a better person and something he thought he'd never be – a father.

At the time he felt a certain amount of regret that he never told her the full truth about what happened that night in winter of 1987. Lizzie knew she was adopted, as soon as she was able to understand what the word meant. She knew the vague details about her parents, that her father was apparently a career criminal and her mother couldn't take care of her and that she disappeared. She doesn't remember much of the night of the fire. She often had nighmares, or flashbacks, of a burning room, silhoetes on the walls, extreme heat, choking from the smoke and a sharp pain in her wrist. She often spoke of a sense of fear and comfort. She remembers being lifted from the hiding place in the closet, covered in a wet blanket and carried above the flames, while her hand was clutching the only thing left from her life – a stuffed bunny, that was partialy singed from the flames.

Sam knew this time he needed to tell her everything, while he still could, so he did.

 _ **1987**_

 _ _It was a week before Thanksgiving and like every year around this time, he got a call from his sister June, worried about him being alone for the holidays.__

 _ _"So you'll be there?" June was very adamant that she'll convince him to visit her in Nebraska for Thanksgiving. It's been almost a year since she's seen him, ever since he and Maggie went their separate ways.__

 _ _"June—" He started but this time he didn't have an excuse ready.__

 _ _"I told you she was stuffy. Never liked her."__

 _ _"Yes you were always first to point that out." He sighed, knowing he was losing a battle. His sister was always blunt and to the point, even if she meant well.__

 _ _"The kids would love to see their estranged unkle."__

 _ _"You mean the dodgy one? I told you I'm no longer involved with that. I have a legit business."__

 _ _She sighed. "Sorry, I'm just worried about you, is all."__

 _ _"Okay. I'll be there."__

 _ _"You will? That's great."__

 _ _"Yes I'll take the bus. Stay for a few days." Who knew that a few days would turn into three decades.__

 _ _Later that night, he was already in bed, his glasses on and reading some novel, when his phone rang again. He looked at his wall clock, it was quarter past eleven. He wondered who could be calling at this time of night. "Sam Milhoan, hello?"__

 _ _"Sam..." He heard a very quiet voice on the other end, that sounded strangely familiar.__

 _ _"Who is this?" he asked.__

 _ _"It's Red..." He strained to hear and noticed the caller sounded in great pain. Red? Raymond Reddington? That voice was so unlike him. The man was always cheerful. He knew right off that something was terribly wrong. He had been friends with Red for many years and they often got together for drinks but when Sam moved briefly to Chicago for business and Red got into Navy intelligence, they lost track. It wasn't odd getting a call from him but at this hour and so serious?__

 _ _"Red! You devil! It's been a while." He heard heavy breathing on the other side before the voice said. "No time, Sam..." He coughed and it went on for a minute. He was gasping, as if he was out of air. Sam frowned. If he didn't know better, he would think Red was on the brink of death and wanted to say goodbye to his friend.__

 _ _"You okay, Red?" He asked worriedly.__

 _ _"I need," he coughed and continued, "we need your help, Sam." We? Sam wondered who he was with but will probably find out soon. He quickly jumped to his feet, trying to move and keep the phone with him, while looking for his shirt and pants to put on. It was difficult to move with the cord, so he finally decided to place the receiver on his bed briefly, "Just a sec, Red!" He thought about the condition his friend could be in, was he injured, stabbed, shot? There could be any number of ways to get hurt in his current line of business. And he wasn't alone? Another agent? His partner? He picked up the phone again."Where are you?" He asked.__

 _ _"On the road. We'll be there in twenty. Need to lose our tail first."__

 _ _"Okay. Need a doctor?"__

 _ _"No... the few people know the better. Grab a first aid kit and a some spare blankets, if you can find. She'll need to get warm."__

 _ _She? So now he at least knew his companion was a woman.__

 _ _"And Sam..."__

 _ _"Yes?"__

 _ _"Keep the lights off on the porch." The line went dead and Sam quickly put on the rest of his clothes and boots. He ran into the hallway and took the keys from the garage and unlocked the closet where he kept his first aid kit and extra army blankets.__

 _ _Around twenty minutes later, he heard the tires screech outside and the doors opening and closing.__

 _ _He opened the garage door and looked outside in the snow-covered front yard. Red was barely standing, hunched against the car door and a little girl was on his left, her hand held firmly by his. Sam couldn't see most of her face, it was covered by her messy hair and dirt. She was crying.__

 _ _"Red!" He said, his voice only slightly above whisper.__

 _ _The man looked up at him, his face was covered in dirt and soot, the same as the girls.__

 _ _"Sam, can you take her?" He asked, his voice pained. He was obviously injured in some way and he could smell smoke around them.__

 _ _Sam hurried towards them and crouched down in front of the little girl. She looked to be about 4 years old. "Hey, little one. What's your name?" Sam asked her in a pleasant, soothing voice.__

 _ _The girl grabbed Red's hand even tighter and pressed her side closer to him in fear. She hid her face behind his back. Red got down on his knees, he winced and then gently pressed his hands to her face to move the hair behind her ears. "It's okay, Lizzie. You're safe. This is my best friend, Sam."__

 _ _Sam smiled widely, as the girl now known as Lizzie, finally looked at Sam.__

 _ _"Hi there, Lizzie, is it?" The girl nodded fearfully but her eyes stayed on him.__

 _ _Sam kept smiling as he looked her over. The girl was pale and was pretty skinny.__

 _ _"Well, aren't you a little butterball," he teased, "how would you like to try some homemade pumpkin pie? Got some leftovers from yesterday."__

 _ _Instead of answering, the girl's stomach growled. She looked at Red, who nodded, he said to Sam, "Thanks, Sam. We're both up for some pie. And if memory serves, you always kept some good scotch on the side for emergencies."__

 _ _Sam nodded, "Yeah, been waiting for you., apparently. Come on, Butterball, I think uncle Red needs to freshen up and have a lie down." He offered his hand to her, patiently waiting.__

 _ _Lizzie stared at his outstretched hand for an uncertain moment and when she finally grabbed it, Sam knew his life would never be the same again.__

 _ **2012**_

Raymond Reddington finished one of his anecdotes, then got straight to the point.

"How is she?" His expression softened. Sam became familiar with Red's fondness for his Lizzie, while he stayed with them for weeks, staying low, avoiding their pursuers and the people who killed Red's intelligence partner. His back was briefly treated by one of Red's former colleagues, a short but feisty lady, that looked more like a librarian, with her glasses and two-piece suit than a top surgeon from the Navy's Medical corps.

But this expression, this was something new, different. He wasn't sure if he liked it.

Instead of answering him, Sam babbled, "I know what we agreed on, we had a plan and I did too, I was gonna keep mum about things, for her safety but it's been years since, the trail was cold and you took too long - I was worried you would never arrive and time was of the essence, I couldn't leave her in the dark..." He trailed off, slightly worried how his friend would react to the news.

Reddington's expression changed, darkened, a rare show of anger directed at him "What did you do-"

Sam stared directly into his eyes and said, "She knows."

He frowned, until realization dawned on him. "What happened?"

"Hello, Red." At the sound of his name, Reddington turned to stare in shock at the slightly older, yet still very much familliar face of a woman he first met as a little girl, when he saved her from a fire, so many years ago. The photos Sam sent him over the years and recently, a few years ago, didn't do her justice. She was incandescent. Beautiful. He was staring.

"Lizzie..." He managed to say and turned to glare at Sam.

As Lizzie walked in and closed the door behind her, Sam went on, "I waited as long as I could but as you now know, my time is limited and there was a fairly recent developement, a possible future event in Lizzie's life that shouldn't have happened, so I had to intervene."

Red looked back at Lizzie, who was surprisingly smiling at him, then at Sam, whose expression showed remorse but also determination.

"How much?" He asked, knowing that Sam would understand what he meant.

"Enough." Lizzie answered for him and went on, "Almost everything about the night you brought me to Sam, and the bits and pieces I couldn't remember, Sam filled in the blanks. You chose right. He played a role of a protective father to perfection."

"Show him the folder." Sam said.

Lizzie moved away from the door and grabbed the brown file folder from her messenger bag. "Here." She offered it to Red, as she sat down on the edge of Sam's bed and he took it, momentarily confused.

Opening the file, the first thing he noticed, was the photo of a familiar thirty-something caucasian man, he knew by his allias. A man he hired years ago, through an intemediary to act as a friend of a friend and protect Lizzie from afar. How did Sam know? How did Lizzie? He obviously showed recognition in his expression, because Lizzie (now an FBI profiler by profession) asked, "One of yours?" She raised an eyebrow, daring him not to answer.

"Jacob Phelps." He said.

Liz frowned. "Is that his real name? I know him as Tom Keen."

"One of his alliases." He retorted and flipped through the notes written by hand, noting that it was written as a psychological profile. His eyes caught the words: sociopath, manipulative, gaslighting, pathological liar, arrogant.

When he saw her hand holding Sam's was badly bruised and there was a barely noticeable cut above her left eye, his eyes narrowed in anger, angry at the person who did this to her and at himself for not being there to prevent it.

"What happened to you?" He slowly approached her, his arm raised as if to touch her, comfort her but changed his mind. "I'm sorry." He said instead.

"It's okay. Let's just say I dodged a bullet."

"How did you find out?" He asked her.

"We dated for a while and at first I was naive to his true intentions. After a few months I got suspicious, because he was too good to be true and because I felt he was moving too quickly, he even asked me to marry him." At Red's shocked expression, she continued, "Needless to say, I didn't accept, I broke it off, he started following me, until he lost it, attacked me and I broke his jaw, right before I arrested him."

At that revelation, Red couldn't help but feel a touch of pride. He gave her a fond smile.

"Is this what you wanted to warn her about?" He asked Sam.

Sam nodded. "I disliked the guy since I met him and knew he was trouble. I warned Lizzie, didn't think she'd listen but when the guy visited me a month ago, all alone, without her, on the pretext of wanting to get to know me better, the father of the woman he loved and asking far too many questions for it to not to be considered an interrogation. I still had a few connections left from my previous line of business, ran a few checks and besides I can spot a fake when I see one. School teacher, my ass. I told Lizzie about his visit and the rest you know from her."

First time in over a decade, Red had no idea what do do next. He stupidly never thought he'd ever see Lizzie in person again, when he left her with Sam.

"Now that's out of the way, I have some news." Liz said.

"What is it?"

"As you probably know, I work for the FBI," at his nod, she went on, "well I was recently offered the profiler position at the Washington's field office and I accepted."

"Congratulations, I'm very proud of you." He said sincerely.

"Thank you. It means a lot coming from you. You know, you were my best friend when I was little. I never forgot what you did for me, even if the event leading to it was painful, for both of us. I was very sad when Sam told me you had to go away because you were sick and you needed help from a special doctor."

"She was inconsolable for weeks, kept asking me if Red would come back." Sam added with a smile. "I had to tell her you will come back some day when you're better."

"Thank you for the music box, that helped me a lot with my nightmares and just knowing that you were there somewhere in the world, still alive."

"I'm happy it helped you and to see you again."

"So am I. And I'd like to keep seeing you, from now on."

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"I have a business proposal for you, Red." Liz said and Red gave her a surprised look.

"My boss formed a special task force to deal with the worst of the worst in the criminal underworld, the known and unknown scum of the Earth. And as a very well connected criminal mastermind, I thought you might already have a list of potential targets, that you may be willing to share with us, with me."

Red smiled, realizing where she was going with her story. "What's in it for me?"

"First of all, a complete immunity deal, in case you ever get arrested."

"Not going to happen and even if it did, you could never keep me locked up for long. Go on."

"Getting rid of your competition."

"Yes?"

"And the pleasure of my company."

He grinned. "Should've gone with that one first."

"Still a charmer, I see." She said amused. "Do you accept then?"

"Yes, I'll be your informant."

"Great. I'm looking forward to working with you." She offered her hand to him.

Red took it in his and shook it. "Me too, sweetheart."

Sam watched them both carefully and felt that after a long time, he could finally relax. His best friend is back and he's going to be there for his daughter. And if Lizzie doesn't mind the adoring look Red's giving her and reciprocates, then he doesn't mind it either. As long as he makes her happy, when he is gone.


End file.
